The Cult of Veneziano
by Yours The Author
Summary: It is the dream of Hetalians everywhere to find the mansion in the adored game HetaOni, destroy it, and save the nations inside from their torment. Somehow, a young lady finds a way to enter the HetaOni dimension, and begins to gather other fan boys and fan girls to help her save the earth from monsters. That young lady... was not me.
1. Chapter 1: Learning How to be Brave

Hello there! I'm Yours The Author, but you'll notice I prefer The Author, or simply Author, but you may call me whatever appropriate name you desire. I've been wanting to write what I like to call the cult series for a really long time, and I'm finally doing it! I had originally wanted this to be a short, comedic one shot, as a contrast to what I hope is the more serious rest of the series. However, I have a bit of a fancy for detail and real storytelling, so it became multi-chapter. Hopefully, it'll be shorter by comparison, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there. You may notice traces of comedy in this chapter. I just hope you enjoy whatever this thing is.

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Hetalia, Hetaoni, or my sister or Moirail. I do own myself and Brittany Davis, not as a person, but as an OC.

 _ **Trigger**_ **Warning:** Rated T for violence, moral pondering, and monster killing.

Chapter 1: Learning How to be Brave

It was an ordinary day for the world. Except it wasn't, because no matter what time period it may be, the world will never be entirely ordinary. But I don't have to tell you that.

So it was an ordinary day- for me, anyway. Dad was at work, Mom was helping her boss, and my siblings were all asleep. I was eating a bowl of cereal at the little less than holy hour of seven thirty. Sometimes trouble sleeping has its perks. I could get on the computer before anyone else that day. My cat purred at my feet and pawed at one of the long red hairs that had fallen off my brush earlier.

I pondered what exactly what I would do that day. No doubt reading Homestuck and various fanfictions were at the top of the list. I hoped halfheartedly that a particular Hetalia fan fiction I'd been reading had updated. All the while, various scenes, stories, and characters flashed around in my mind, never ceasing to surround me.

I glanced absently at the pile of mail on the kitchen table and noticed a white envelope with my name on it. Odd thing was, it wasn't my real name; it was my preferred fan fiction title. "The Author" was written on the flat side. No stamp, no address, not even mine. Had someone slipped it into the mailbox this morning?

I grabbed a nearby letter opener and opened the letter. Two pieces of paper came out. I had accidentally cut the top of a folded piece of paper off. Oops.

"Dear, 'The Author'," the bigger piece read. "My name is Brittany. We've never met. We will soon, but chances are we won't talk much after that. Then again, maybe we might. Who knows? It's all up to the whimsical thing we call fate, or whatever you prefer to believe in. Two things I need to write down here and now because it'll take forever to explain, even in person. One: Magic is real. It's how I determined who should receive these letters, including your friend, whom you call 'The Artist' and your older sister whom you call 'The Vet'. You will all meet up if you all agree to come. Second, and most importantly: Hetalia, specifically HetaOni, is real. It's all bloody real. This is where things get complicated. The ultimate reason you have this letter is because I need your help. The nations, as I'm sure you well know, are trapped in the mansion three hours from the World Meeting Place. They're suffering in there, and you can help—if you so wish, of course. Your friend and sister might have decided already to come, but I won't use that against you. I won't keep your loved ones hostage in exchange for assistance, who told you that?"

"Um," I said.

"I josh, of course. But I really do need all the help I can get. No, the cult needs all the help it can get. I can't expect you to follow the typed words of an unknown human, but I can hope that you will at least consider it for the sake of the nations, Italy Veneziano especially."

I set down the finished piece and stared out the window. It was a cloudy day, and the rotting wood porch was damp from last night's rain. I could hear splashing from a few rooms away, meaning the turtles had felt the need for exercise. I closed my blue eyes and began to ponder with as much focus as I could muster.

 _Hetalia is real?_ I thought, _and magic is real as well?_

 **Well, it could explain how this letter had appeared in the mail,** I thought back.

 _Come now, couldn't there be a more logical explanation?_

 **But we've never given out our address to anyone on the internet, and Arty isn't the type to play a prank.**

 _Say, who is the Brittany person anyway? Who does she think she is, claiming Hetalia is real? That sort of thing only happens in fanfictions, and usually the not particularly spectacular kind._

 **But is it right of us to judge her? She sounds like she knows what she's doing, perhaps she's telling the truth?**

 _What are the chances of that happening?_

 **What are the chances of getting a letter like this in real life?**

 _Fair point._

Boku Hetalia~

 **Shoosh your mouth, we're trying to think of important things.**

You can't fight the Homestuck!

"Argh!" I smacked my forehead, loudly enough to make my cat run away with a poof in her tail. "Can never gosh darned focus, even when it counts!" I rubbed my aching ear tubes. "Maybe I should talk out loud to focus better." I wasn't ADD or ADHD, as far as I knew; I just was always circled by thoughts, often to the point of feeling sleepy in the real world, in a dream state.

I reread the paper. "I guess it would be more accurate to say that HetaOni is real… But how? It's a fan game, baseless head-cannon that just happens to be really cool and epic and sad. I suppose next they'll tell me that 2p characters are real. They don't have canon appearances or personalities, but hey, anything goes here in Wonderland!" I crossed my legs and rested my chin on my hands. "Suppose it is all real, though. Why me? There are so many other stronger, faster, smarter Hetalia fans than me. I'm just a poet trying to be an author. If it's HetaOni we're talking about, they'll probably want me to fight or something. I'd like to see an actually good story like that where there's character development and not just a rage management fest. But, uh, that is not the important thing. I wouldn't be good at fighting, and those monsters are near impossible to kill. Even if there were a thousand of us, we'd be screwed harder than a guy in a Cyberman invasion!" I stared at my pale hands. "And then there's the question of if this is right. It may be a monster, but it's a living thing. Can I bring myself to kill something? Soldiers and armies are psychologically trained for that sort of thing, but that's not who I am!" I stopped talking. My mouth was dry from being out of practice.

 _I'm sure we'd all like to think that we'd be ready to kill to save a loved one, but what would we do in reality can be completely different. The fight or flight response kicks in, and we either run away or die fighting. And if we survive, what happens to us? We change, that's what. And while a little change can be good, it just makes people expect you to do things that make you uncomfortable until you go numb from repetition._

Some thoughts began to grow rowdy and push at my think pan, but I needed to focus.

 **Are you a coward?** I thought.

 _More than likely,_ I replied.

 **Italy was a coward to, right? But then he knew he had to keep trying in order to save his friends, even if it meant losing them over and over again. Where is he now?**

 _Miserable,_ I thought, _eternally suffering._

 **Bad example. Let's try again. Vet and Arty might already be there, right?**

 _Supposedly._

 **What do you think they'll think of you if you don't come? They'll think less of you.**

I rubbed my chin feverishly. _They aren't like that. And I'd love them anyway._

 **But what if they die? What if you were the only one who could save them? Could you live with yourself?**

 _I'd never know—_

 **Exactly!**

I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes tight. Boy my brain was getting some exercise that day.

 _This is all a bunch of what ifs!_

 **What ifs can be true.**

I stared at my hands and shivered. _I could die._

I focused on the silence. The house didn't breath, and neither did I.

 _I could run away and get someone killed. I could mess up a lot of things._

 **Could you… or would you?**

I stared at the remaining paper. It was smaller, and turned so I couldn't read it.

The more comforting things I'd been thinking of pushed at the core of my brain. My frontal lobe throbbed as if something was biting it. It was inviting, if not completely comfortable. Should I just stay in my comfort zone?

 _Do I even have a comfort zone?_

 **Yes, you do. It's called being lazy. Now read the rest of the darned letter.**

 _I'm not that lazy…_

 **Prove it.**

I picked up the letter and continued reading.

"If you would like to join what I've tentatively called The Cult of Veneziano, simply remove this section of the letter and sign your name, or pseudonym, if you prefer."

I had cut off the part with the letter opener. _Oops,_ I thought again.

 **Well that was easy.**

 _Now hold on, I haven't signed yet—_

"If you cut off this part of the letter but then get cold feet, the rest of this letter is to tell you, 'No, sorry, no cold feet allowed, you're walking on coals. You will automatically be sent to our location. Sucks to be you.'"

"Hey!" I said aloud.

 **Brittany's right. It kind of sucks to be us.**

"Pretty sure… that's not… fair!" I felt tense and panicky. I breathed heavily, and my chest felt strange.

I dropped the letter, and stared at the friendly, largely printed letters, "Don't Panic! Sincerely, Brittany Davis, Temporary Head of The Cult of Veneziano."

The feeling that started in my chest spread slowly to my arms and legs. It wasn't pain, as I first worried it was, but rather the warm, glowing feeling one feels when meditating. It calmed me down, though not by much. As the feeling draped over my eyes like a cotton blanket, I felt as if I was falling, and hummed a quiet goodbye to the relative comfort I had known. Looking back on it now, it seems like the least sucky thing that happened to me, though it hasn't made me appreciate the wake up any more. I guess I feel a bit differently now, but I still stand by my previous not specifically written statement: I really don't like change.

And the first chapter comes to a close! Huzzah!

I wrote this story many times, but this is the version I think best begins the series. Perhaps a bit heavy handed for a first chapter, but I think it's fairly well done.

I don't usually have conversations like this in my mind. I usually speak them aloud, and not for very long. Most of the time, the underlined thoughts win my attention. But I can still do my exams and focus (for the most part) on assignments! So, that counts, I guess.

Who is this Brittany Davis? Why did she choose The Author, of all people? Is she actually who she says she is? Of course she is. Otherwise, this would be a very different story. But for the answers to the other two questions, you'll have to wait until next time!

Please leave me a review. I need critique as a way to know where to go next. If you're not too busy, try reading my profile and my other story. As of writing this, I have one story up. So tell me what you think, keep my title in the dark recesses of your mind where none dare enter without a parachute, and have a day. Good or bad, it's up to you. Until then!


	2. Chapter 2: Learning How to Scream

Welcome back you few, oddly silent viewers! It's the second chapter, hot diggity dog, as you cool kids say. For whatever reason, be it lines or a bunch of symbols, they don't show up on the story, which makes it harder to distinguish the Author Note from the rest of the story. So I tried to make my own line break as I typed this, then copy and pasted the line breaks with the story onto here. I'm not sure why this happens, but let's hope it works.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or HetaOni.

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 2: Learning How to Scream

Some days just suck. This is a fact of life. That day was one of those days. The thing is, when you wake up on a concrete floor in the only spotlight in a dark room with the effects of a glowing feeling gone and leaving you cold and clammy, rest assured it's one of those days. There's not much you can do about that. Except scream.

"Huh-wha-huh?" I said sleepily. Of course, it actually helps if you can scream on command, like I can't. The floor was gray and chilling. The spotlight came from high above, and I got the sense that the room was as wide as it was tall. A bunker, perhaps? It felt so empty, though, it must have been abandoned. The heavy echo of a door opening and closing meant I was no longer alone. Steady steps seemed to come from all directions. I was dizzy, but I tried to sit up.

"I doubt you can get up so quickly, but you can try." I froze at the accented voice before me. Either this lady speaker was faster than I thought, or the room wasn't nearly as big as I imagined. Also, was that a cockney accent? I was terrible with identifying accents, so I might have been wrong. "You're very calm, so I guess you haven't looked at yourself yet."

"Huh?" I was still woozy. Then the mysterious girl stepped into my spotlight, and I learned how to scream. "AAAAAAAH!"

The blonde anime girl blinked. This was clearly not her first time doing this. "Let me know when you finish," she said, stepping closer. I scooted away, making choking sounds. The girl pulled a mirror out of her green jacket pocket. "Have you looked at yourself since you woke up?"

"W-what?" She handed me the mirror, and I learned how to scream again. It seemed I would be learning that lesson a lot that day.

"Bloody heck," said the lass, "Is it really all that shocking to you lot? I was startled, sure, but this is ridiculous." I was too busy looking at my clothes with wild abandon to answer.

My much shinier and brighter red hair brushed its tips at my never before seen green uniform, black cap, white gloves, and ridiculous array of weapons, which included a sword, a knife, a pistol gun thing, and a blade that might have been a katana, but I wasn't sure.

The girl stuffed the mirror back into her pocket and held out her black gloved hand. "Let me help you up, then." I squeaked and backed up to the edge of the spotlight. Have you ever had an anime character talk directly to you and reach out to you? For the record, it's very creepy. The girl rolled her obscenely large green eyes. "I don't have time for this," she muttered. She wrapped her arms around and hoisted me up without a problem. I held myself awkwardly, shoulders tight, elbows bent, hands clenched. She dusted off her own green uniform and set her hands on her hips, looking at me sourly. "Look, we don't have a lot of time, so I'll make this short; I'm Brittany Davis. Temporary head of the Cult of Veneziano. I've summoned a lot of people here to help save the nations from the Oni. Are you with me so far?"

"Um," I said.

"Good." She grabbed my wrist and tugged me back the way she came. Before we stepped into the blackness she snapped her fingers and the lights flipped on. I blinked rapidly and looked around. We were indeed in a bunker, the only other occupant being a large blimp that was gray as a rain cloud. I looked at all of the things around me I was pulled along. It all looked so strange, like a drawing redone in 3D, but better and almost realistic. I took a gingered glance at Ms. Davis and our clasped hands. She had a firm, business minded grip. It was odd, watching our hands sway steadily, drawn just as I had seen on my favorite animes. I turned my head this way and that, watching how what I saw was shifted to match my perspective. It was more tightly drawn, it seemed, as if a hundred drawn pictures had been included in every second of framing, or more so than a usual anime, anyway.

Then I looked at the back of her head. No doubt she was pretty, though most anime characters are drawn that way. Her yellow hair tipped the collar of her green jacket like claws, and I remembered that her dark eyebrows were thick, not like England's but Hong Kong's. She wasn't stick like, like I was, but very broad of shoulder and steady of arm. _She probably works out a lot,_ I thought.

We reached the far end of a wall, which was lined with a full length mirror and push doors. Ms. Davis shoved me at the mirror and grumbled, "Look at yourself, be shocked, get over it, and then let's move along. Quickly, if you please."

"A bit of an irritable sort, eh, Ms. Davis?" I muttered as I touched my face.

"Just Brittany, please, and…" Brittany pinched her brow and sighed. "I don't mean to be a grump, alright? It's just… You were the last one to get here, and I'd like to do this before something goes wrong. It's hard, Author, being the temporary leader of a cult you technically created. It's hard—"

"—And no one understands," I finished. "I'm sorry for pointing it out. But people aren't machines, you have to consider human meddling when making plans."

"I know that now. But I'm still a terrible hostess, even by American standards."

"I haven't been to too many formal parties in America, but I'll take your word for it and move on, unoffended." I stared into the mirror, eyebrow raised and lips moved to the side in contemplation. My hair was much wavier now, and not streaked with brown and blonde like red clay. My eyes were wide and solid blue behind green wire framed glasses. My nose was a bit bigger than the average character's, but not greatly so, and my freckles were very faded, fewer and farther between. The most curious things were the two cowlicks in my hair. I was no stranger to rebellious hairs, but these were different. There was thick, crescent shaped one on the right side of my middle part, and a thin strand that curled in a spiral and seemed to float just beside the left side of my head. They seemed to move in an imaginary wind, and pulsed gently, or perhaps my eyes were tricking me. I reached up to pat them down when Brittany grabbed my hand.

"Best not to touch them, mate."

"It's just hair—"

"Oh look, a door, shall we go out?" Brittany said quickly.

"Um, sure," I said, slowly following her out into the bright outdoors. I could have sworn I felt something on my head twitch and bounce, maybe with anticipation. I wondered if my new curls were their own sentient beings…

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

And cut! That's a wrap, take five, etc. etc.

That turned out better than I worried it would, so yay for that. Don't get too used to the rapid update, though, I'm working on a side project, currently (You can make a guess if you look at the poll on my profile) and I don't have the next chapter written down. At all. So it might be a while.

Everyone say hello to Brittany! She's a bit overworked, as you can tell, but I hope you get the sense she cares about each of the members of the cult. Let me know what you think of her (Also let me know if I played the slang a little oddly. I watch Doctor Who and Sherlock, but I'm not fluent with British phrasing. Tips are welcome!)

Dear Readers, I'm glad to see that I've attracted a nice variety of audience members, (Hello to the readers in all of those countries beside America, I think there's someone from Ecuador, Venezuela, Singapore, I'm sure I'm forgetting a bunch of others, but thank you all for reading. I'm not excluding you, American readers, you're equally appreciated.) That being said, I would really appreciate it if you could all leave a review. You know the Japanese title, -dono? It means master, or mistress. People can say that the author is the master of the story, but I think the real donos here are the Readers. You have influence on how the story goes, more than you might think. I would really like to see something that shows your opinion; it was good, it was bad, whatever you want. I took off the profanity filter to see if that was maybe interfering with the review button, and guest reviews are more than welcome. Most of the reviews I write are Anonymous, so don't be afraid. Or at least pretend to care, if you don't. I know being an author is a two way street, but I want to know what you think, and even taking the time to read, as wonderful as that is of you all, can't tell me everything. Please... ***Piano plays*** _Say something I'm giving up on you._ ***Can't sing***

Okay... just wanted to get that off of my chest. Please, leave a review, check out my other stories, leave your opinion on the poll on my profile, and I hope I'll see you all soon. Until then!


	3. Chapter 3: Learning How to Learn Things

Welcome back, Reader-dono's! Glad to see you're still here. I ended up writing this chapter today, even though I said I wouldn't. I didn't do any planning for this at all, I just typed it right onto the computer. It might show, seeing how even less gets done in this chapter than usual. I was hoping to speed this part along, but it got away from me. Oof... Anyway:

 _ **TRIGGER WARNING:**_ This chapter contains stereotypically written British accents, mentions of quadrants, (namely flushed and ashen) and mentions of girlxgirl. Don't worry, this will _**NOT**_ be a fiction about romance. It will be mentioned briefly in words, and nothing more than hugging will be seen on screen. I probably should have mentioned the pairings in the first chapter. Oh well, I'll just do it now:

Contains OC diamond OC and eventual OC heart OC. (For some reason, the symbols on the comma and period keys don't show up).

Keep in mind there will be _**NO**_ pairings between cannon characters. This isn't a ship fest. If you want a ship fest, look at my other story, Wrath and Pairings: The Consequences of Shipping Wars -Hetalia Edition-. The cannon characters are just friends, no romance, deal with it. This is about questioning morals and cracking jokes at all the wrong times, not a war. (See above mentioned fan fiction for that sort of thing.) Now that we got that out of the way, enjoy the story, and I'll see you at the bottom of the page!

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 3: Learning How to Learn Things

It was very bright and sunny outside. There were rolling green hills, lots of people moving between huge tents and posts, and a mass of dark trees in the distance. It's not that I hated it, but this place was full of things I didn't like. Outsideness, socializing, a burning sun… it was pretty, sure, but not my cup of cocoa. The forest looked nicer, but it seemed no one was going there. I began to feel a bit nervous at the proposition of having to meet people.

"Easy there," Brittany patted me roughly. "I promise that no one here will bite. Anymore."

"Um—"

"Moving along," Brittany walked ahead and I hurried to follow. The bunker behind us was a long gray building that looked sturdy but aged. It towered over the tent town on its own little hill. "There are about a hundred Hetalia fans in the cult, give or take."

"Only a hundred?"

"Not everyone is cut out for this sort of thing, you know."

"Then why am I—?"

"Each person is transported into the anime world via magic and a lot of paper cuts." Brittany wrung her hands and winced. "The letters were a way of delivering magic into our world, where magic comes in a different form."

"What form?"

"No idea. I suppose it depends on who you are. It's not something you can use to your advantage, that's for sure."

"But if there's an anime world, does that mean there's a comic world or a video game world?"

"Not exactly." We stopped in front of a large white tent. Brittany knocked lightly on a board that read, "Kitchen 2". "The different worlds sort of exist in the same place at the same time. From what I can tell, we could pass through another dimension at any time and never notice. Likewise, other people could cross into our dimension without realizing it."

"Then why is it obvious we're in the anime dimension now?"

"You need to know people from the dimensions, and know where they come from." Brittany crossed her arms and looked at the tent impatiently. "I stumbled here by accident, and had no idea what happened until I became acquainted with someone. Then you became acquainted with me."

"Who is your acquaintance, Italy?"

Brittany shook her head. "He's in the mansion, remember? And it doesn't concern you who it was, anyway. Point is, I met them, and I learned where I was and what I could do. That made me capable of seeing the true colors of this dimension."

I squinted at the neon tent and rubbed my eyes. "Rather bright colors," I mumbled.

"Oh, poor you. Anyway, I took the opportunity to make a plan on how to free the nations and destroy the mansion. Consulting the person I met, I created the Cult of Veneziano, under the condition that I was not to be the one in charge of it. Italy will be, once we finish our mission."

"Why bother making a cult? Can't we just save them?"

"Cults have power." Brittany said darkly. "Do not underestimate what they are capable of. It's a different kind of cult, another thing you don't need to think about now. Excuse me a moment…" She banged on one of the tent's support poles and called, "Casey? Casey, are you in there? Come out, we have another one. Bloody heck," she muttered. "She keeps getting into the kitchen. I told her not to go in there, but does she listen?"

"What's wrong with being in the kitchen?" I asked.

"That kitchen is where something is being prepared for after we win, and she keeps sneaking in and eating things. To be honest, I think she hangs around the kitchen a little too much, either way."

"Let her live her life," I scolded. "Also, making a feast thing before we even start fighting? Haven't you heard the phrase, 'Don't count your chickens before they hatch'?"

"We won't fail," Brittany said. "We can't…"

"'Ello!" A girl popped out of the tent. "Oh, 'ho's this one? She's right pale; don't you ever go outside?" Perhaps Brittany was right in saying she snuck into the kitchen too much, but I thought it made Ms. Casey even cuter and later I told Brittany so. She blushed and told me to shut my trap. Casey had spikey black hair that was covered with a handkerchief. She was very short and round, but not exaggeratingly so, and dressed in a long green dress with an apron. I would have been stifled under all of that fabric, but she didn't seem to mind it. When I thought about it, she looked like a Chibitalia with a cockney accent. She even had a tiny curl on the left side of her head.

"Casey, this is The Author. Author, Casey. She's one of our best marksmen." Casey pumped my arm so hard I thought it would break.

"Oh, so you're one a those pseudonym types? Lovely to meet ya!"

"She's going to need help with shooting her pistol," said Brittany.

"I never shot a gun…" I mumbled helpfully. Casey patted my arm.

"Neither 'ave I!" I blinked and looked between the two girls.

"But aren't you—"

"Until today." Casey flashed a brilliant grin. "Never done it before, but I'm a natural! And so are you, lass, once you fire the first bullet."

"How… can you tell—?"

"You've got a gun right there!" she pointed at the pistol on my right hip. "And you've got the curl," she pointed at the top of my head. "You like America, do ya? He's okay, but I just love Chibitalia! He's my favorite, he is!"

I reached up to find the curl, but Brittany smacked my hand away and frowned at Casey. "Having a gun doesn't mean I can shoot," I said critically. "And how do you know America is one of my favorite characters?"

Casey looked at Brittany sternly. "Weren't ya gonna tell 'er about those clothes?"

"I was getting there," Brittany said sharply. "Part of the magic, Author, grants you some of the aspects of your favorite characters. This includes weapon usage, curls, and especially clothes. It's not permanent, mate, don't go bug-eyed like that. It's a little frivolous, to be sure, but it does make it easier to find people." She looked me up and down. "I see you like a variety of characters. Based on your appearance, it's… Lithuania, Japan, America, the Holy Roman Empire, and Norway, in that order."

I stepped back. "That's kind of creepy."

"I've been looking at clothes all day. I know my stuff." She gestured to Casey, who giggled and curtsied. "As I'm sure you can guess, Casey likes Chibitalia."

"Okay," I said, looking at Brittany. "So you must like…" Blonde hair, eyebrows, green suit, cape. "England!"

"Very good. And who else?"

"There's another?" I gaped. She did have a long sword, but aside from the weird shoulder tassel thingies, not much else. "Uh…"

"Pst," Casey hissed. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, Brittany waiting with a raised eyebrow. Casey did a short bow and whispered, "Konichiwa."

"Japan," I said loudly.

Brittany glared at Casey. "You were supposed to let her guess!"

Casey glared back. "It's not a test. Besides, 'ow was she supposed to know?"

"Uh, guys?"

They glared at me. "What?"

"Do you two have something against each other? Because if not, chill, it's not a big deal, really. Just calm down."

They looked back at each other, and then back at me. "You're right," Casey mumbled.

"Need to set an example," Brittany agreed. She straightened her cape. "Casey, show her the ropes. No, not the Nerd™ ropes you took from the pantry; put those back. I mean show her around the place, teach her more of the basics. Author, if you need me or get sick of this wanker—" Casey stuck out her tongue. "—I will be helping some blokes at the magic circle tent. Cheerio." She walked away from us, cape swinging.

"Brittainy's rather surly, isn't she?" I asked Casey as we walked the opposite way, through a small alley of tents.

"She doesn't mean to be," Casey said quickly. "It's just the stress, you know, 'avin' to keep an eye on over a hundred people. She's really quite sweet, she is."

"I suppose…" I glanced down at her. She was eating one of the Nerd™ ropes. "Forgive my terminology, as not many others know it, but do the two of you need an auspistice?"

Casey looked at me in surprise. "You read Homestuck too, then?"

I smiled, pleased I had found someone else who read what I read. "I do indeed. I doubt I could do it long distance, but if you need me for the duration of this whole mission thing—"

"Oh, no!" Casey said quickly. "You needn't trouble yourself. It's not that extreme. We have our moments, sure, but we get along just fine. We go to the same school, you know. Never bothered learning each other's names, but then we start talking after I get into the cult and it turns out we've been living in the same flat for years!"

"Amazing," I said.

"I was one of the first people she brought here, and we're really rather close now. She thinks I snack too much and I think she drinks too much—"

"She drinks alcohol?"

"No, jasmine tea. I can't stand that rubbish. But I know it's not going to end after this; we're gonna keep in touch, we are! Meet at school; try to get classes together…" She gestured and I bent down so she could whisper in my ear. "…and between you and me, as kind as you are to offer bein' our auspistice, I'm hoping for something a little… redder. Bright red."

I gasped and grinned. "You don't mean—" Casey blushed. "Aw, that's so sweet," I cooed. "I wish you two the best!"

Casey poked me in the forehead. "Weren't you the one who said not to count the chickens before they 'atched? I gotta ask 'er, first! Also, not so loud, you'll draw attention, and someone might tell Brittany."

"Got it." I zipped my lips, threw away the key, and gave her a thumbs-up.

She giggled and took my hand in hers. "Come on, then, let's see the shooting range."

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

And there we go. Everyone say hello to Casey! She's a dear, I think. The accent is probably a bit exaggerated, though. Let me know if you have an issue with it and I'll change it. Good grief, I feel like literally nothing happened in this chapter! It just seemed like a good place to stop, and now I don't want to write another word of dialogue. I think next chapter I'm going to have to speed things up. Maybe we'll get to the fighting next chapter? That would be cool.

Why are all of the OC's besides me British? I don't know. It just seems to work for them. Next chapter should have some other nationalities, depending on where you're from. *Nudge nudge wonk wonk* You'll just have to wait.

I'd like to make a shout-out to MightyGamer64, even if she likely won't see this since she's not into Hetalia. She's a really cool writer, primarily for Ao Oni and Super Smash Bros., but she's really good at her stuff! I help her out with spelling and such via review, and maybe some day we'll set up a Beta together? I don't know how that works, but I think it would good for both of us. Give her a read!

The reason for the shout-out is that she helped me feel better after I told her I was feeling a bit down from not getting reviews. If you're like me and you have stories that no one reviews, it's okay! Most people are too lazy or don't have the courage to write reviews, but it doesn't mean people don't like what you write. I myself was a bit shy of the review box until one day I wrote something down and sent it in. That's how Mighty and I met! My review made her feel good, and then I felt good too! It's like gift giving, but on the internet. Reviews mean a lot, but they don't mean everything. As long as you're getting views and visitors, it means some people care. That being said, it would be reassuring to hear something from someone. I'm probably thinking too hard about it, though. I kept having weird dreams last night where I kept waking up and immediately checking my email. Sometimes something was there, sometimes not. I'm not sure which made me feel worse. Stress does weird things to me... yeah...

But never mind my problems, how about your problems? Don't count on an update tomorrow, I might have to give up the computer so dad can do work. Oh, well. What do you think of the cult so far? This is more or less how imagined it in my head, though I think I wanted the mansion to be closer. I'll see if I can work that in. Would you want to be a member? If so, what do you think you'd be doing to help out? Let me know with a review, and I hope to see you soon. Until then!


	4. Chapter 4: Learning How to Make Do

Hey, I'm back even though I said I wouldn't be. My dad went to a car show and had fun all day. Yay for him.

Before we begin, I'd like to make a huge shout-out thank you to HeadphonesCityActress for making this story a favorite. I feel like I have an audience I can identify with now, so thank you, it really boosted my day! And now, a chapter for all of my fascinating readers:

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 4: Learning How to Make Do

The shooting range was in yet another white tent. I worried that a stray bullet could fly out and hit someone at any time, but apparently this was not considered a problem in the cult. About ten or so people stood at a horizontal line a few yards from large dummies with crude faces drawn on their bulbous heads. They were all riddle with bullet holes, especially in the face. We approached a muscular boy with black hair and eyes dressed in a black tank top with beige pants that were bound at the ends with bandages. His dark skin glistened with sweat.

"Hello, Casey," he said. "Is this another recruit? Don't answer that; I know she is. Never seen her before."

Casey placed my hand in his. "The last one, actually."

He shook my hand firmly. "I'm Damian, from Canada. You?"

"I'm The Author, from America. Um, hi," I said quietly.

Damian looked me up and down. "Why is she here?" he asked Casey.

"What do ya mean?"

"I mean she has a ton of blades and stuff. She should be at one of the arenas."

"She has a gun, too, and besides, it's better to 'ave a long range weapon."

"Blades are more effective."

"They get ya too close to the enemy."

Damian threw his hands. "Oh, alright, fine." He pointed at me. "You. Get out your gun, get in line, and shoot it. Let's see what you've got."

I began to inch away to the side. "Um, I've never used a—" I bumped into someone who had been about to shoot a rifle. It went off, the loud bang making me shriek and back into Casey. The bullet pierced the dummy in the chest. The owner of the gun turned to glare at me. He was dressed in what looked like Liechtenstein's military uniform with the purple ribbon tied to his belt. He reloaded his gun and shot the dummy three times in the center of its forehead. He put his gun away, looked at me once more, then stormed out of the tent. I covered my face with my hands.

"Why do I talk," Damian asked.

"Why am I here?" I whimpered.

"Why do we exist?" Casey wondered. We looked at her. "Sorry, couldn't 'elp it." She patted me gently on the head. "You're here for a good reason, Author. We need you."

"But I can't do anything useful. There are so many other people that could be here in my stead. Why me?"

"I take it you're one of those people who got cold feet?" Damien asked.

"Not even. I cut that part of the letter off accidentally with a letter opener."

"Then it must a been fate!" Casey said adamantly. "Tell ya what, we're gonna find your friends, we are. I've met them before, so I know they're waiting for ya." She smiled apologetically at Damien before ushering me out of the tent. "You really are here for a reason, Author. There's powerful magic in you; I can feel it!"

"Magic?" I asked.

"All of us here 'ave a bit a magic in us, enough to protect us from the draining effects of the mansion." She pointed farther away between the bunker and the woods. A long, tall building sat behind a black iron gate. My neck tingled just looking at the place. "Characters like England, Romania, and Norway can cast actual spells, but that's not what I'm talking about. I feel like there's more in you, something special. I don't what, though."

I took a deep breath. "Well, thanks for trying to cheer me up. So Arty and Vet are here?"

"Yep. They came a bit before you did, and they've waiting for ya since they arrived." We turned a corner that led to less battle oriented tents. They were places that offered refreshments and medical assistance for minor wounds. "They took to their skills right quick, they did. Faster than you, anyway." I sighed. "Oh, not like _that_ , you goose! I mean you just need more practice, is all!" I gave her a half eyed look. "Oh look, there they are." Two girls sat in front of a tent with a sign reading "Café". They sat at a small round table by themselves and looked up when we approached. I knew the second I saw their faces it was them.

"Arty!" I cheered as The Artist stood to hug me. Her face was as pink and tan as it was in real life, with the same brown eyes and pixie cut, fluffy hair that tufted this way and that. She had two small curls coming out of the left and right of her head, and was dressed in a beige uniform with a long black tie. There was an assault rifle on her back that I tried not to touch.

"About time you got here," she said. "We've been waiting forever."

My sister wrapped her arms around me. "Hey sis," she said. Her light brown hair was short and neat, as always, and she was dressed in long green pants, army boots, a black tank top, and a funny looking hat that matched. (She'd probably be quick to tell you that the hat was not very funny looking at all.) There was a pistol at her hip.

Casey smiled. "You'll see, Author, these girls know their stuff! Stick with them, and you could be as good as The Reader over there."

"Who's that?" I turned to where Casey was pointing back the way we came. They were dressed in their favorite characters clothes and smashing dummies left and right with their respectful weapon. "Wow," I said.

"Yeah, they're cool," said Arty.

Casey clapped me hard on the back. "You ladies 'ave fun. I gotta go meet with a rubbish drinking lass." She sauntered away.

"Does she mean Brittany?" Vet asked.

"Yeah, it's complicated," I said as I pulled up a chair and sat down. "Cute, but complicated." I looked between them. "So… what's up?"

"Aside from anime stuff, shooting guns and being awesome all day? Not much," said Arty. "You?"

I slumped a bit. "Worries and stomach aches. The usual."

Vet sighed and pushed her plastic framed glasses up her nose. "You should be called 'The Worrier'. What is it this time?"

"A lot of stuff. Death, maiming, loss of loved ones and/or sanity, uselessness, and whether or not it's right to kill monsters."

Arty rolled her eyes and papped my hand. "You're one of the few people I know who would worry about hurting a monster's feelings."

"I'm worried about my feelings, not its. Selfish as it sounds, they can care about themselves as much as they like, and I'll do the same."

"You're thinking about it too much."

"Am I, though?" I looked at my moirail. "I mean, it _is_ a living thing, and—"

"Let me ask you this," Arty handed me a water bottle, which I took gratefully. "If I were stuck in that mansion, what would you do?"

"Get help, of course."

"What if there was no one around, though?"

"I suppose I'd try to sneak in and get you out."

"What if a monster found us?"

"I'd grab you and run away."

"What if we were at a dead end?"

"This is a very specific role play."

"Author..."

"Okay, then, I guess I'd try to fight." I looked at my water bottle. "I just feel strange when I think about it. I'm worried I'll get killed or get someone else killed." Vet looked at me thoughtfully. Arty shooshed me.

"Do you trust me with your life, Author?"

"Of course, Artist," I said quickly. "Because you're strong and smart and—"

"Good, then I'll trust you with mine. It's that easy. Now no more talking; you'll ruin the moment." She squeezed my shoulder. "It's the same with Vet. Friendship is magic, and all that jazz. Got it?"

"Got it," I chuckled. "Thanks, Arty. Thanks, Vet." Vet was still looking at me oddly.

"You know," she said slowly. "I'm sure that if you asked Brittany, she—"

Whistles started blowing and megaphones started blaring. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked around. Someone dressed like Austria ran by us screaming, "Where's Brittany? Someone find her; we have a code orange!" A few others ran with her, repeating the message in different languages.

"What's a code orange?" I shouted as people started yelling.

"It means that the countries are being attacked en masse in the mansion!" Arty replied.

"EVERYONE CALM DOWN!" Brittany roared. Voices hushed, but didn't cease. She was standing in the middle of the crowd with Casey by her side. She held a katana in one hand and a small black book in the other. "The wrecking balls are on their way now, and will lead the attack. Fighters follow behind, gun men in the front and the others in the back, spreading out when needed. Medical officers will be further behind to attend on the battle field." She glanced in my direction and winced. "I'm sorry there wasn't more time to prepare you all better, but we will have to make do. Remember that the weak point is the center of the forehead for the normal looking ones. Just cut the other buggers in half or something. This is what we have trained for!"

"I haven't done anything," I stated, louder than I thought.

"Shut up!" Brittany snapped, and a few people laughed. The air rumbled as twenty or so yellow wrecking ball machines rolled in front us from behind the bunker. _What,_ I thought. "Everyone into positions!" Brittany ordered. People began to rush around, shoving me away from Arty and Vet.

"Wait!" I shouted over the din. "I don't know what I'm doing!"

Brittany appeared behind me. "Just stick with me, mate, and you'll be fine." She looked quickly at everyone around her. She raised her sword and screamed, "For the Earth, and Italia Veneziano! **_CHARGE!_** "

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

And scene! I think that was a very nice way to end that chapter, if I do say so myself. So we didn't get to the fighting like I not-promised, but that means it'll be here next chapter! Huzzah and what have you.

How'd you like the reader insert? I figured if anyone would be there, it might as well be you. Seems you're really good with what your preferred weapon is. The Artist gives her approval! (Note how I specifically wrote it so that is gender neutral, so it can apply to anyone. Equality!)

So... yeah, don't say hi to Damian, he's not going to have many important lines in the series. He might show up now and then, but he won't say much. I imagine he's a very serious young man and doesn't have time for nonsense. You can say hi to him if you want, but don't expect much of a reply.

On the other hand, we meet the infamous Artist and Vet! Their names are based on their occupational interests, like mine is. Though technically Arty delves into so many fields, I probably should have called her Crafter, or something. But I think this title suits her, don't you? Arty and Vet both have guns, so they might not see the Author in battle... or will they? Yeah, they will. No suspense there. What's the point of suspense if introducing it makes it obvious that it'll happen? A bit lame, in all honesty.

Also, in case you were wondering, I got the idea for Brittany's character from a comment on YouTube (which I don't own) that said something along the lines of "Let's rally together and take down the mansion! Who's with me?" They then *Raised a katana and a black spell book over their head*. The image was very striking to me, and I believe that's where the real inspiration for this story truly roots itself. Whoever wrote that comment, thank you!

So leave a review and tell me what you think of this story! I figure it'll be over in two of three chapters, but it's been a wonderful experience using this technology. How new-fangled it is! The real question though is who were you dressed as, and what were you beating those dummies into the ground with? Let me know in the review box. I look forward to whenever I update again (Might be tomorrow, might not be, who knows) so until then!


	5. Chapter 5: Learning How to have Vengence

Here we are again! Sorry for the delay, I was working on a different story project for the most part of yesterday. The rest was spent cleaning the car for Father's Day. Then I decided to take a break and play Harvest Moon. Farming without actually going outside and working can be fun.

I'd like to make another huge shout-out thank you to rwbygirl for favoriting me, following the story, and leaving a review! I was really excited to finally see a review, so thank you very much! Feel free to leave another one!

And now, my Reader-donos, it is time for our climax.

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 5: Learning How to have Vengeance

I don't go to construction sites that often. I've never even seen a wrecking ball in real life. I had assumed that they would be rather slow and easily maneuverable, to properly do their job. And perhaps I was justified in thinking that. However, that was not the case with these machines. They drove ahead at what looked like highway speeds, moving in fairly straight lines. I was hurrying to stay close to Brittany, who was making long strides near the front of the fighters. "Best draw your sword, mate," she told me. I looked at the weapons dangling at my sides and grabbed the European sword. It was fairly short and light, by most sword standards. The flag of the Holy Roman Empire gleamed on the hilt, and the steel blade mirrored my panicked face.

"I still don't know what I'm doing," I told Brittany.

"Just jump on top of them and stab them in the head," she replied.

"I can't jump."

"Then cut off their legs."

"I'm surprised I can even lift this thing."

"Then cast a spell."

"I don't know how."

Brittany huffed and glared at me. "When the battle starts, you'll know what to do. Instinct will take over. Now stop complaining and share the control." She turned away.

I looked at my sword. It seemed to fit in my hand quite nicely, and it was light enough that I could lift it. I waved it awkwardly. It seemed to want to swing where I didn't want it to swing, as if it were trying to spin around in my hand. _Share the control?_ I thought. I tried to let the sword do as it wished. I swung slowly to the left, and the sword flipped around like a figure eight, ending in the position it started in. I did it faster, with the same results. "Easy there, lass, don't cut off everyone's heads," Brittany said. "I said you would know what to do. Try not to control all of its movements, but don't ever drop it. You'll lose it in the crowd faster than Italy can run from England." I laughed, and she smiled a bit.

We finally arrived at the mansion. The gates loomed above us like dead trees, and the mansion behind those trees was a black lake that had frozen over. A tall post stood near the entrance, and seemed to be the reason we knew of the code orange. I looked warily at the wrecking balls, expecting them to swing back and hit the gates. The machines just ran into them and knocked them down. _Okay,_ I thought, _surely they will knock the building down as they're supposed to._ The machines began to run over the house. _Why,_ I thought. Then the first monster appeared, and I forgot I was confused.

The picture of the Oni seen in the game was more of a caricature than anything. Its head was huge, but it wasn't double the height of its body. Its neck was pretty long, but it wasn't like a bean pole. And its body was so much bulkier than an RPG maker could ever handle. Claws like crow's feet, skin as taught and sculpted as a skull, and mouth housing fangs that reached its pointed chin. It was immediately knocked to the ground by a wrecking ball, run over, shot multiple times in the head, and decapitated. I wondered how I was expected to be as awesome as everyone else.

 _Meanwhile, in the mansion:_

Prussia knocked away a monster. They were everywhere, and the sound of crashing a few rooms over probably meant that more were coming. He gasped suddenly and grabbed his head. "Bruder, are you alright?" Germany called as he whipped another monster.

"I'm not sure," Prussia replied. "I thought I felt… a disturbance…"

 _And now, back to the courtyard:_

I was still staring at the black blood seeping from the things body, my brain short circuiting, when Brittany shoved me. "It's time to fight!" she shouted as she ran ahead. I was left alone in the middle of a blood fest. More monsters appeared, some like the first, others that were stranger still. I saw Damian beating at a blob full of eyes with a wok while Casey shot its many eyes with a machine gun. Someone dressed like Hungary was sparring with a huge thing, which I likened to the Squatto from Ao Oni. And I was just standing there, looking like an idiot. A shadow loomed over me, and I turned to see a monster with a head but no arms. It scampered up to me, teeth bared. I shrieked and covered my head, waving my sword frantically. I might have scraped its nose, but it caught my sword with its teeth and flung it away. It glared at me with its huge obsidian eyes, and I shrieked again. A bullet hole flew out of its head, and it fell forward before me. The guy dressed as Liechtenstein from earlier yelled at me in some sort of French before hurrying away. I looked down at my weapons again before grabbing the knife with the Lithuanian flag on the hilt. _Well, this is useful,_ I thought as I looked around again. I held the knife close and began to run around the yard. Perhaps the Vet or the Artist was nearby, and I could help them. A monster that floated above the ground with long tendrils came at me. I screamed and threw the knife. It struck the monster in the head and it fell. I screamed again as Brittany set the thing on fire with a blast of green light. It burned to cinders. "Keep going!" Brittany yelled as she ran away. I took the katana from its scabbard and started to cry. What was I doing here? I shouldn't be here! I want to go home! I want to go home!

"Make way!" A Poland look alike pushed past me, holding a first aid kit. He joined some other folks as they knelt around someone on the ground. I stumbled over to see who it was. "We can't get it out!" someone said. "It's a curse!" My heart stopped when I saw who was injured.

"Arty!" I wailed as I flung myself down next to my friend. She was pale and breathing heavily, moans and cries coming forth as she shook her head side to side.

"Hey, get out of here! We're trying to work!" someone yelled at me.

"She's my friend! What's wrong with her?" I shouted back.

"We think that one of the bullets she shot at a monster was cursed and deflected back at her. It's burrowing into her slowly, and we can't get it out, not even with magic!" Sure enough, a hole was forming near her stomach, growing deeper and deeper. "At this rate-!"

"I WILL NOT LOSE MY FRIEND!" I screamed, and I reached into the wound and grabbed the bullet. Arty shrieked, and I felt the bullet vibrating and spinning, burning my hand. I felt a tug in my arms and I ripped the bullet loose. It tried to bury itself in my hand and I threw it at a monster. It struck it in the eye and it fell. The Poland guy gaped at me.

"How-?" he started.

"Get her out of here!" I ordered. "Outside of the mansion grounds! Don't leave her side until she's in stable condition!" I picked up my katana from the ground. "I have to go kill some things." I ran at the fallen beast and brought my blade down. Blood spurted from its wiry neck. I leapt at another, and its arm fell to the ground. I went faster and faster, everything else becoming white noise around me. I saw one monster, a normal one, reaching down at a boy dressed like Japan. He was on the ground, sword broken and leg bleeding. Yelling, I slashed at its outstretched arm. It heard me and pushed my blade away, breaking it. I felt my right shoulder pop and go limp at my side. "Oh, you want to play that game?" I growled. "I can _play_ that game." I dashed in front of the fallen member, removed my gun, and shot the monster in the head. I kept shooting and shooting until I ran out of bullets. The monster slowly fell backwards and slammed into the ground. It didn't get up. I realized the white noise was gone and I looked around. People were looking in my direction. Oni carcasses littered the ground. Medic teams were grouped together, working, peeking, and whispering. I had killed the last monster. I looked down at the boy, who stared at me with fear and confusion. He was holding his thigh, which was bleeding profusely. I dropped the pistol and reached down to him with my left hand. He took it, and I pulled him to his feet. He leaned heavily on my shoulder, arm wrapped around my waist, and we made our way to where the gates had been. I pushed him at someone standing there and fell forward. Space was swimming in my eyes as I settled into someone's outstretched arms. Space decided to invite all of its star friends into my eyes for a pool party, and I closed my eyes.

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Ta-da! The fight scene you've been waiting for has finally arrived! Or at least, I'm hoping you were waiting for it...

I'm happy with the way the fight worked out. My plan for this part was pretty much just: Fighting scene- Climax- vengeance killing- pass out. So obviously, I had tons to work with. I wrote this all today, in the course of a couple of hours. What did you think? Was it everything and more you wanted from an action sequence? I seem to have pros and cons with writing serious action and dialogue. The pro of serious action is that it's fun to imagine everything happening at once. The con is having to figure out how to convey that to your audience while making sure it flows smoothly. On the other hand, the con of dialogue is that it can get pretty repetitive and boring. The pro is that it's fun to write back and forth dialogue between characters that are dysfunctional in different ways. But all that aside.

Seriously, what did you think of this chapter? It's nice to hear someone tell me that the story is cool; really, I'm flustered right now. But I really want to know how this effected you as a chapter. Was it choppy or smooth? Were the character's actions believable given the context? Tell me what you think, please. I want to know that I'm doing this right.

So how did the Author manage to remove the cursed bullet from Arty's wound? Was it the magic of friendship? Not really. I won't make you think that if you don't want to. Though I suppose it could be that the moirallegiance activated the mysterious rescue... I guess we can say that the power of friendship brought forth the magic. Tell me what you think happened!

We'll probably be finished in the next chapter or two. Whenever it ends, thank you all so much for putting up with me; Thank you MightyGamer64 for being there for me, and a huge thank to rwbygirl and HeadphonesCityActress for favoriting me, and I hope to see you all again soon. Until then!


	6. Chapter 6: Learning How to Deal

Here we are again, for the last time for a while. Yes, the final chapter has arrived. I never imagined that I'd write a story this quickly on the spot, but hey! I did, and that's what counts... I think...

A quick shout-out thank you to SundaeQuests for following this story. I really appreciate this sort of thing. But the story's kind of over now, so...? Yeah I don't know. But thank you anyway!

And with that, I am proud to present the final chapter.

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 6: Learning how to Deal

I have dreams quite often. However, they usually don't make sense and I forget most of the details when I wake up. One time, I dreamed that Danny Phantom confessed his ghost powers to his parents, but they rejected him, so he went to Sam's house and cried. That made me sad.

I was floating in a black void, my hair drifting in nonexistent wind. My cape fluttered beneath me. I seemed to be lying down, but which way was up? It was very comfortable, and I would have liked to curl up and snuggle into a deep slumber, but I was immobile, drifting in nothing. I felt a tugging sensation in my chest. It was like the feeling in my arms when I pulled the bullet loose, but weaker and continuous. Space seemed to be playing in my eyes again. Green sparkling lines swam across my vision. I often saw these with my eyes closed before I slept, but these tentacles were brighter and seemed to arch about me in specific patterns. I couldn't help but feel that these snakes were watching me without eyes…

(v.v) time skip...

 _Good grief, my head hurts,_ was the first thing I thought when I left the void and became conscious. I tried to turn my head and return to sleep, but something began to poke my shoulder. "Author. Author. Hey Author. Author. 'ello Author. Author. Author. Get up, Author."

"…Nooo…" I moaned quietly as I turned the other way.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy-'ead!"

"I-do'-wanna…"

"Oh, leave her alone, Casey. Let her get up on her own." A different voice said sternly.

"But she's wakin' up—"

"Then your job is done. Go get some water or something. She probably needs it." The other person grumbled as their steps faded away.

I finally forced my eyes open, murmuring a "Weh…" at the bright white around me. "The hideous light of the day star…"

"Good afternoon, Author. How do you feel? Besides awful, I mean." I reached up to cover my eyes with my hands, but felt someone hold them down. "Oh no you don't. You're going to wake up now, whether you want to or not. You have visitors." I shut my eyes and slowly became adjusted to the light. I seemed to be in a large white tent. _Of course,_ I thought. _Where else would I be?_ I was lying in a cot, fully dressed in a clean replica of my earlier outfit, and gazing at the person in the cot next to me.

"Sup," The Artist said weakly.

"Hi, Arty, hey. Arty, hi." I said with a tired smile.

"Yes, hello, ciao, bonjour, whatever." Her jacket was off, and her lower chest was wrapped in bandages. A few minor scrapes were on her arms, but there was nothing serious. Someone cleared their throat. I looked up to see Brittany looking at me. Something about her was different.

"You're shorter than I remember," I told her. She scooted away, and I saw that both of her legs were in casts.

"I'm not shorter; I'm in a wheel chair," she replied. "Some bloody satellite monster lifted me into the air and dropped me like a rock. Fell on a wet patch of grass. There is nothing enjoyable about falling on a wet patch of grass."

"I can tell." I looked at Brittany and Arty. "What happened?"

"You mean besides saving my life? Total rear kicking epicness," said the Artist.

"Yes," said Brittany as she looked at me curiously. "And I am wondering how exactly you removed a cursed bullet with your bare hands?"

I looked between them. "All I did was reach in and pull it out. Probably not the standard procedure, but it worked."

"Author, that was a cursed bullet."

"Yes, you just said that."

"I mean that no amount of medical technology or healing magic could have removed it. And yet you claim to have just, quote, 'reached in and pulled it out,' unquote. You, who have never once practiced using magic or ripped a bullet out of a person; even if you could manage to take it out, the bullet should have just lodged into your hand, burrowing a hole right through it. Instead, you hurled at a monster, killing it near instantly. The question is," she rolled closer to me. "How?"

"I don't know?" I squeaked.

"Stop bothering 'er, Brittany. She's had enough for one day." Casey entered the tent, holding a glass of water. "Drink this, lass, you'll feel better." She helped me sit up in bed and hand me the cup. I took it with my left hand, as I had realized as I was sitting up that my right arm was in a cast.

"Why is my arm in a cast?" I asked when I finished the water.

"You dislocated it," Casey replied. "But not much else is wrong. Don't look at me like that, lass, the cast is magic. You're probably almost done healing. Lucky for you; those things work better on unbroken bones." She grinned and took Brittany by the wheel chair handles. "And lucky for this girl, I'll be around to 'elp 'er, I will!"

"Oh, lucky me," Brittany muttered, though she seemed as if she didn't mind as much. Someone coughed quietly and Brittany looked up. "Oh, yes, nearly forgot," she turned to me. "You have a guest." I looked to the left and saw someone dressed like Japan sitting in a chair. A pair of crutches lay next to him.

"Oh, hello," I said, not entirely sure who he was.

"You saved him earlier, after you killed the last monster," Brittany said.

"Of course; now I remember," I nodded politely at him. "And who might you be?"

He nodded back at me and said in a quiet voice, "Konichwa, I am Japan. It is nice to meet you."

.

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My face must have been priceless, because Casey couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, um, uh, er, I didn't think, um, hi?" I stammered. How the heck had I been the one to save him?

Japan sensed the mood and said only, "I would prefer that you call me Kiku Honda, please, as it is my human name."

"Okay," I squeaked.

Japan grabbed his crutches, stood, and bowed to me. "Thank you very much for saving me. If you will excuse me, I am going to the bunker."

"Okay," I said again as he limped away. The Vet hurried in, saw me, and wrapped me in a hug.

"I'm so glad you're safe," she said, voice trembling. I hugged her back with my one arm.

"I'm glad you're safe, too." I whispered. Vet looked me up and down.

"Are you sure you're okay? Are you hurt? Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm The Author," I replied with a chuckle.

"Not funny, Author. I was really worried." Vet glared at me.

I settled down and looked up at her. "I'm sorry, but I'm really fine, okay? I mean, aside from a dislocated arm and everything…" Casey promptly took my cast off. "Um, Casey—"

"All done!" she said. "You can move your arm now." I gingerly lifted my arm without a hitch.

"Cool, thanks Casey." Someone dressed as Poland came into the tent. "Oh hey," I said to him. "You're that Poland guy."

"Yes," he replied. "And you're that green girl." He began to fiddle with Arty's bandages.

"Green girl?" I asked. He glanced at me.

"Yeah, I mean the girl with the glowy green magic that helped take a bullet out of this one," He gestured at Arty. "Still don't know what that was, but hey, it prevented our only causality." He helped Arty sit up. "You can get up, but don't do any extraneous movements." He turned to Brittany. "I'll just fix up these last few patients before I head to the bunker."

Brittany nodded and waved a hand at him. "Carry on," she said. He walked away to someone lying on a cot further away.

"Why is everyone going to the bunker?" I asked.

"Celebration, mostly. You didn't think this was done yet, did you?" Brittany replied.

"I kind of did think we were done. I mean, all of the monsters are dead, right?"

"Correct," said Brittany. "But I just want to make sure. With bombs."

"Um, not atomic bombs, right?"

"No, no, I care about the environment. Sort of. When I proposed this plan to Feliciano, he readily agreed."

"Feliciano?" I asked. "Oh, you mean North Italy."

"Well, you're not wrong," said Vet. "The nations that were actually inside the mansion are asking that we call them by the human names, which are the same as the ones game gave them."

"Oh, okay," I said. "I can do that."

"Glowy green magic…" Brittany muttered. "I need to think about this. But for now: Casey, Vet, come with me to the bunker. I can get there just _fine_ , Casey, I just want you with me. No not like—oh, never mind. Author, Artist, you two follow behind when you're well enough. I will see you at the ceremony." Casey wheeled Brittany out of the tent. Vet followed behind, looking back at me constantly.

"Look for me when you get there, okay?" she said.

"Of course," I replied, and she walked out of the tent.

Arty and I were silent for a few minutes, staring at each other. "Hey," she said at last.

"What's up?" I replied. "So… how are you?"

"Sore," she replied. "You?"

"Same." Silence.

"You saved me," She said suddenly. "I would have died if it weren't for you. So, thanks."

"You're welcome." I said. "I just knew I couldn't lose you. You're my best friend." I sighed. "I was really scared. I accidentally threw a knife at a monster and I just… I killed it. And then you were in danger, and I saved you, and then…" I shook my head. "I guess I was just blind with blood lust."

Arty pushed herself off of her cot and sat next to me. "Not blood lust; dedication. Vengeance."

"I still don't like it," I crossed my arms and looked away. "I'm not sure how to deal with it."

Arty patted me on the back. "But hey, it's over now, right? You won't have to deal anymore. Tell you what," she pulled me to my feet. "We're gonna go to the bunker. Everyone else will blow up the mansion, and we'll eat frosting and cookies until we get sick. Does that sound good?"

I smiled shyly. "Frosting is good." We made our way to the tent flap when I thought of something. "Oh, Arty…"

"What is it?"

"…Nothing."

"Really, what is it?"

"I was just wondering…" I shuffled my feet and brushed furiously at a strand of hair. "How do I talk to people? You know, the nations and stuff?"

"I guess you just talk to them, like normal people." Arty lifted the flap.

"No, I mean, like… how do you ignore the… _fantasies…_ of the young teenage mind?"

Arty looked at me in surprise. Then she smirked and wiggled an eyebrow. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I am saying nothing!"

"Sure you're not." Arty wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked out of the tent. "Dude, there are a ton of people with thoughts like that. I don't know, just try to imagine them as separate people from your imagination and you'll be fine. Now," we treaded up the hill to the bunker. "The frosting is waiting."

(v.v) time skip...

It turns out that separating your imaginary perception of someone from their real selves is kind of easy. Now, in my head, I hang out with Japan and Dirk Strider all day, and I'm friends with Kiku in real life. I became friends rather quickly with the nations, mostly engaging with the main twelve. Kiku thanked me once again for helping him (We couldn't stop bowing at each other) and then he introduced me to the other nations: Feliciano, Lovino, Antonio, Arthur, Alfred, Mathew, Francis, Ludwig, Gilbert, Ivan, and Yao. The rest of the nations, not having been in the mansion, didn't take on human names, which was fine with me. Remembering all of the countries names was hard enough as it was. Each country was surrounded by fans asking them questions. I decided not to bother them.

We found Vet standing by the buffet, which was indeed full of cookies dunked in frosting. According to the Vet, she was standing there because we weren't allowed to have anything to eat until after the speech. Luckily for me and the Artist, Brittany began talking just then. She welcomed all of the ladies, gentlemen, and gender neutral chibi things (yes, it was necessary) and thanked them for helping make the mission a success. She welcomed the nations, and began listing off the injuries and casualties. "All of us were wounded. I think we can all agree everyone got hurt in some way. On the other hand, there were no casualties," she smiled in my direction. "Thanks to the loyal and brave actions of our cult members." There was applause, and Arty nudged me in the ribs. "We are about to send this blimp into the air so that we can drop bombs on the mansion and blow it sky high. We've evacuated nearby towns and have placed a magic defense shield over the bunker so that we don't all die. If there is anything that anyone here would like to load onto the blimp so that it may burn in the fires of the mansion, for whatever reason, speak now." The crowd murmured, but no one came forward.

"I have something," a voice said. Everyone looked as Feliciano Vargas himself stepped up to the plate. "I've seen these clothes covered in blood too many times," he gestured at his still bloody uniform. "So I want to burn them. Is that okay?"

"I don't see why not," Brittany said slowly.

"Bueno," Feliciano said with a smile, and then he began to take off his clothes. Everyone reacted in some way; some gasped, some snickered, some swooned, and some acted as if it was completely ordinary. Vet and Arty covered my eyes, but I could hear murmurs of agreement on the stage. People around me were whispering, "They're _all_ burning them!"

"…Right then," I heard Brittany say. "If someone would be so kind to bring some clean clothes up here, we'll begin shortly." Clothes were brought up, and I was allowed to have my eyes again. As the blimp flew slowly toward the mansion, everyone milled about and talked to their friends. Brittany was pushed around by Casey, who handed everyone a small envelope. Inside were small pins and decals, as well as a note that described what each one meant. Arty, Vet and I each received a white flag crossed under a fork, which represented that we had all fought bravely and could be considered official members of the Cult of Veneziano. "And the white stands for purity, not surrender, thank you very much!" the note quickly informed us. I also received something that looked like a bent purple square. "The purple flag," the note said, "For directly being involved with the rescue of one of the nations from the mansion." We helped each other pin our rewards on each other. The bunker suddenly rumbled.

"What's going on?" I asked worriedly.

"Remain calm, everyone," Brittany said. "The mansion is just exploding." The wall of the bunker that faced the mansion slowly lifted, revealing a window. The black lake was a river of ashes. Everyone cheered. The nations began to cry with joy, their personally selected psychologists comforting them. Joy soon turned to hunger as everyone charged at the buffet with the same ferocity as the charge on the mansion. The three of us shoved as many treats of our liking onto our plates as possible before hightailing it to the other side of the bunker. We'd probably be going home soon, but we all wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as possible. It was a merry mushroom that year.

The End

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 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Actually Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

And... we're done! The story comes to a close at last, and I think it ended very well. Did I rush the end just a bit? Yes, probably. Did I include the "it was a merry mushroom that year" line from the manga version of The Minish Cap because I've always wanted to end a story with that line? Yes. I won't deny it; That line just sticks to me.

Actual canon characters! Is that even possible? Of course it is. I can do whatever I want; I'm the Author. The names are all the actual given names of the twelve nations based on the English version of the game. I'm sure you already know of them.

As for the question mark, well... as Brittany said, "You didn't think this was done yet, did you?" But it'll be while before that sequel comes up. One of my issues with story writing is that I think of the big, climatic, tense scenes that will be the highlights of the story, but then I actually have to get there and figure out how to make filler look like not filler. It's hard, but I like this kind of work. It's fun, and it's helpful to like the work you do.

But tell me what you think! And I could really use some critique in these reviews, guys. (Here's looking at you, rwbygirl) What do you think the dream meant? What do you think the sequel will be like? Let me know, and look at the poll that I have on my profile. I'd love your opinions!

So thank you all again so much for putting up with me. I never thought I would attract such a global audience, but it's been a wonderful learning experience. I hope to see you all again soon, so until then!


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